Three-Legged Race
by Lif61
Summary: Coal Hill School is having a field day and Clara is chosen to participate in a three-legged race. She thinks she needs some practice and luckily she knows someone who is willing to help her with just about anything. Just some whoufflé fluff I wrote because of a prompt I saw on tumblr.


**A/N: This is just something I wrote because of a prompt I saw on tumblr about an OTP having a three-legged race. It was nice to write some fluff as well. I haven't done that for a bit, and we could all use a little more whoufflé fluff in our lives.**

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Coal Hill School was hosting a field day. Not all of the teachers were very enthusiastic because that meant that the students would be even more rowdy than usual, and a few of them were bound to get hurt. It was mostly the younger teachers who were glad for the day, especially since there would be no lessons to plan, and no assignments to grade. Clara was eager for the field day. She just loved children, and she loved watching them be happy, and it was a laugh to watch them participate in silly activities. However, teachers were going to participate as well. Not all of them, but the students had voted who they wanted to participate and in what activity. Clara, being a favorite among the students had been voted for the three-legged race, and her partner was a fellow english teacher, and her friend, Adrian. She knew she needed practice, and she just so happened to know someone who was about the same height as Adrian.

The Doctor had been keen to help her out. All she had to do was give him a call and let him know that she needed him for something. She hadn't explained what, thinking he'd back out when he heard the ridiculous idea. At least he would show up.

Clara paced in her room, anxious to hear the sound of the TARDIS arriving. Hopefully he wouldn't screw up the time and come late, or early for that matter. She walked over to her mirror and studied her reflection. She was still wearing the outfit she had worn for work, not bothering to change; a navy blue blouse, a black skirt, and black leggings. She straightened her clothes just a tad, wanting to look good. She wasn't sure why though. It was only the Doctor.

As she brushed a hand through her brown locks she heard the sound of the TARDIS materializing. She smiled. It sounded like it was coming from the living room. She left her bedroom, trying to not walk too fast. She told herself that there wasn't any need to be this eager.

She felt giddy when she saw the sight of the familiar blue box that he had managed to fit into the corner of her living room. It was a few seconds later that the Doctor stepped out, his brown hair as fluffy looking as usual, a purple bow tie around his neck. He didn't have his coat with him and his sleeves were rolled up. It appeared as if she had called when he was in the middle of something. He didn't seem to care because he swept her off her feet in a hug when he saw her, and she hugged him back as he twirled her around, letting out an excited laugh.

After he placed her down on the ground, he straightened his bow tie all business-like, though his green eyes held a playful glint. He then asked, "What do you need? Any high shelves I have to reach again?"

Clara slapped his arm playfully at the reminder of what she had called him over for last time. She had had to reach a high shelf to get something and she had been way too tired to think of getting a chair, or something of the like, so she had called him. He didn't seem to mind of course, but he enjoyed teasing her.

"No. I don't need to reach a high shelf, and if I did I wouldn't call you."

He raised his eyebrows, his lips curling up in a slight smile.

"Besides," she started, crossing her arms defensively, jutting her chin out, "I'm not that short."

The Doctor snorted, but then rubbed his hands together and asked, "So why am I here this time?"

Clara blushed a bit, sitting down on the couch and he joined her, fiddling with his hands in his lap as if he wanted to do something else with them.

"At the school they're having a field day," she explained. "A few teachers were chosen to participate in some of the activities."

"And you've been chosen."

"Yep. I'm supposed to participate in a three-legged race with another teacher, and I…" she looked down as she felt herself blushing more. She felt ridiculous asking him for help with this, but hopefully he wouldn't mind too much. He always seemed ready to help her with anything. "I need someone to practice with," she finished.

"What day is it?" he asked, looking around curiously.

Clara wasn't too stunned by him seemingly starting a new conversation, seeing as he did it so often. He usually had a point to make when he did that, so she answered, "Thursday."

"Blimey. I hate thursdays."

She gave him a quizzical look. "Why do you hate thursdays?"

"They're so boring," he explained. "Most days are like…" He shouted and spread his arms out to show excitement and she held back a giggle. "And then thursdays are just…" He gestured around her flat as if it was a good explanation.

"What's wrong with my flat?" she asked defensively.

His eyes widened at his mistake, and then he got closer to her. "No, no. That's not what I meant," he tried to correct himself. "It's just, it's plain."

She raised her eyebrows. "You're sitting on a green couch," she scoffed. "That's not plain."

He put a hand to his forehead, furrowing his eyebrows, and squeezing his eyes shut in frustration. "That's not what I meant. Nothing seems to happen on thursdays."

"Well this thursday something is going to happen." She stood up from the couch and held out her hand, "Are you going to help me, or not?"

The Doctor raised his head to look at her and he smiled warmly. As he took her hand and stood up he told her, "Of course I will, Clara." He then clapped his hands together and did a twirl to examine his surroundings. "There's not enough room for practicing a three-legged race in here," he observed. "Perhaps the hall would be better?"

"That's what I thought."

She grabbed his hand and led him out into the hallway as he questioned, "What are we tying our legs together with?"

Clara turned to him as she answered, glancing at his bow tie, "I thought we could use your bow tie."

"But Clara, it's not supposed to be used for tying things up. It's a fashion accessory."

"Yes, and I'm sure you'll be fine without it for a bit."

He straightened his bow tie and lifted his head up higher. "We're not using my bow tie."

"Come on. Just for a bit. Don't be a baby."

"I'm not being a baby. It's just… it's cool!"

Clara sighed before she started going down the hall to her bedroom. "I'll see if there's anything else we can use." She overdramatized the weariness and disappointment in her tone. The Doctor reacted as she had wanted him to. He loped down the hall to her and grabbed her arm to stop her before turning her around.

"We can use my bow tie," he said quickly, sounding a bit defeated, but desperate to please her.

"I knew you'd come around," Clara said, patting his arm, and he started undoing his bow tie as she went back to the other end of the hall.

The Doctor came back over to her, and stared at his bow tie a bit forlornly.

"How are we going to do this?" he asked. "Your legs are short. Is your partner as short as you?"

"As a matter of fact, he's about your height."

"Is he?" the Doctor asked, placing himself on her right, and he leaned over to start tying her right leg to his left one.

"Yep. I think you'd like him. He wears a bow tie."

"See, they are cool."

"I never said they weren't."

He tightened the knot, making it a bit too tight.

"Ow!" she complained. "Doctor, the knot's too tight."

"Yep, yep. Sorry."

He fixed it, and then straightened, rubbing his hands together, and she looked up at him. He was busy looking at the other end of the hall, most likely assessing the best way to do this.

"How about we step with our outside legs first, and then the inner ones?" he suggested.

"That could work."

The Doctor cracked his neck as if he was ready to get down to business. Clara smiled, finding it amusing that he was taking this so seriously, but she set her gaze at the other end of the hall.

"On the count of three," he said, and she nodded. "One… two… three!"

They both stepped forward, and Clara found herself getting pulled, the Doctor a bit ahead of her.

"Clara!" he complained.

"Doctor!"

She managed to keep her balance and hopped forward a bit on her left leg as the Doctor braced himself against the wall. He pushed himself off of it, and they were then standing side by side again.

"That didn't work," he commented.

"No. You took too big of a step."

"Maybe your step was too small."

"I did what I normally do."

"So did I," he retorted.

"How about this, you take smaller steps, and I take larger steps."

He nodded. "Got it."

"Inner legs this time?" she suggested.

"Sounds good."

He took a deep breath, and turned to her. They both nodded at each other, and then they took the step forward. His step still spanned too much space, and she started falling forward. She tried to regain her balance. She almost did, but then the Doctor fell and she went down with him, landing on his shoulder.

"Ow," he groaned out.

"Sorry."

"Clara. I think you're going to kill your partner tomorrow," the Doctor stated, lifting his head up so his face wasn't on her red carpet.

She braced herself on her left arm, and started to lift herself up, moving off of him so she could get her right hand on the floor as well.

"I'm not planning on it," she said.

"Either way, someone should hire you to be an assassin," he joked, starting to lift himself up as well. They both got on their knees and it was comical because with his longer legs his left knee was a bit far from her right one.

They both straightened, and then looked at each other.

"How should we do this?" she asked.

"I don't know. This is your fault."

"It's not my fault," she retorted.

"It is, a bit."

She let out an annoyed breath and then grabbed onto his arm, starting to lift herself with her left leg. He put his arm around her waist to help brace her, and he began to stand as well. After a bit of difficulty, they were both standing again.

"Your carpet needs vacuuming by the way," the Doctor said as he rolled up his sleeves a bit more.

Clara rolled her eyes at him, but she wasn't actually as annoyed with him as she was leading him to believe. It was difficult to be fully cross with him.

She took in a deep breath and then said, "We can do this."

"Yes. Positive thinking. Good job, Clara."

She smiled, and then they got to it. They had a few more difficulties, and the bow tie became loose at one point, so when he took a step forward it had come off, and he reached the end of the hall before turning back and throwing up his arms triumphantly.

"What are you doing over there?" he asked, as she stood there laughing at him.

Clara picked up the bow tie, and held it up as she said, "This came undone."

He rolled his eyes and came back over to her, and they were then tied together again.

That was the last difficulty they encountered and they managed to make it across the hall. The Doctor insisted that they keep going at it to try and see if they could go faster. He managed to time it in his head.

"Is there any chance I can fill in for your partner?" he asked as they were going down the hall again.

"No. Adrian will probably be in tomorrow."

"But you'll do so much better with me."

"I think that's cheating."

"Not if Adrian calls in sick, and I'm the substitute teacher."

Clara paused at his recommendation and they fell again. In his startlement, he had turned to her as he fell, and he landed on his back, with her landing on his chest, facing him. Her head fell against his shoulder. Luckily she hadn't been closer to his face. Their lips probably would've collided if she had been.

She laughed at the predicament they now found themselves in and the Doctor laughed as well, putting a hand to her back. Clara didn't want to admit it to him, but it felt good to be lying on top of him, and she just wanted to stay there.

"Thanks for cushioning my fall," she laughed out.

"Anytime," he said. "Besides, you're still small, so it's not as if it was much of a problem."

"Are you going to make fun of my height all day?" she asked.

"You make it too easy."

"That's because I'm around you, and you're too tall."

"Too tall for what, because I'm fairly certain we figured out how to get this three-legged race to work out."

"I don't know," she replied, putting her hands on his shoulders and lifting herself up a bit. His other hand quickly joined the one on her back, resting beneath it. She looked at him as she thought. What was he too tall for? She could always say hugging because she liked to wrap her arms around his neck, and if she wasn't wearing high heels she had to stand on her tiptoes to do that, but then he'd come up with another way she could hug him. His hair was a bit messy, and she started brushing a hand through it, smiling at him. "Too tall for me to fix your hair when it's a mess."

"I can do that myself," he said with a small frown.

"Yeah, but I like doing it."

"Does that mean you like my hair?"

"As a matter of fact, I do like your hair."

The Doctor smiled at her, blushing a bit. "So then it's safe for me to say that I like your hair as well, right?"

She brushed his cheek with her hand before placing it on his shoulder again.

"Of course it is."

"Then I like your hair, Clara Oswald."

"Ooh, very formal," she teased. "Using my last name."

"I like your last name."

"I don't. It's an ugly sound."

"I think Oswald has a very nice ring to it."

"Says the man who is in love with the word 'toggle'," she joked, remembering the time he had gotten so excited about a toggle switch.

"That's a good word too," he said quietly, glancing at her lips.

The Doctor's eyes widened just a tad as they went back to her eyes, shocked by where his gaze had gone. She did her best to ignore it.

"There are better sounding words," Clara told him.

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? LIke what?"

"Doctor," she answered.

For all her life she had associated that word with being sick, or hurt, or just being in a place where she didn't want to be in general. It used to make her think of paperwork, and getting jabbed with needles, and given instructions, and medicine. It reminded her of white, unpleasant rooms that smelled of antiseptic, but now it was a brilliant word. It made her think of the wonderful man who she was currently with. It made her think of adventure, and adrenaline, and her heart beating fast, and kind smiles, and warm hugs, and just fantastical and ridiculous things. Thinking of that word made her so happy because she now knew it as a name.

The Doctor's eyes widened in pleasant surprise, but he waited for her to explain.

"It makes me think of you," she told him, "and all the adventures we have together."

"Not all of them are adventures," he said. "However, you've definitely made this thursday enjoyable."

"I'm sure it could count as an adventure," Clara suggested, leaning closer to him. "We both learned that we're not the best at three-legged races."

"And that we both like each other's hair."

Clara blushed, and she leaned closer to him. It felt right. She found her gaze going to his lips, and his went to hers, but when they locked eyes again, he was looking at her questioningly. The Doctor took a deep breath before patting her back lightly.

"I think maybe we should get up," the Doctor said a bit roughly, and then he cleared his throat. "We have more practice to do."

Clara had a feeling that when they were done practicing he would leave, so she nodded her head in agreement. She still wanted more time with him. It was a shame she had to get off of him though. She felt rather comfortable. However, she was blushing, as was he. They both knew that they had almost kissed.

Clara rolled off of him, and they helped each other stand up. They continued practicing, and while doing that, she explained to him that it was illegal to fill in for a teacher when he really didn't have any qualifications. She also explained that it would be wrong for him to mess with Adrian and make him think he was sick. The Doctor felt down about that, but he asked her when it would be over so he could pick her up from work.

They sat down on the couch, each holding a glass of water, and after a sip Clara put it down on the coffee table so she could rub at her ankle that was a tad sore.

"What are we going to do tomorrow?" she asked.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?"

"Honestly," she started, turning to him, "usually by Friday, I just need to go out for a drink."

"A drink, huh?" The Doctor put his own glass on the coffee table before patting his lap. "Give me your ankle."

Clara put her feet in his lap, and he began rubbing her sore ankle. Even through her leggings she could feel the warmth of his hands and the slight roughness of them that probably came about from working on the TARDIS. Her skin tingled slightly from his gentle yet firm touch.

"You don't have to do that," she told him.

"But I want to."

After a bit of silence, Clara began, "I know you're not really into drinking, bu-"

"No. It'd be fine," he assured, his hand traveling up her calf. "I'd love to take you out for a drink."

"It's a date then," she said with a smile.

The Doctor looked up at her and licked his lips nervously. He then stated in a quiet voice, "Yes, a date."

She wished she hadn't said that word. It had just come out of her mouth. The two of them tried to avoid that word, just as they tried to avoid any potentially awkward situations, such as her lying on him in the hallway. They weren't sure what they were to each other. They said friends, but Clara always found herself wanting more, and it seemed as if the Doctor did too. The way they carelessly touched each other and got in each other's personal space was certainly more friendly than just friends. She could feel the tension between them. She was drawn to him, but he felt unattainable.

The Doctor sighed. "That's a funny word. So many different meanings… so many misconceptions."

The Doctor locked eyes with her, his hands stilling with their ministrations, one of them gripping her calf lightly. The seriousness in his gaze made her heart start to race.

"I suppose that's true," she said quietly, "but it's just a word."

"We need words to convey what we're feeling."

"Not all the time." Clara's voice was so quiet it was almost a whisper. "Not all words can explain things." She found herself leaning closer to him, and he seemed to do the same.

She knew for a fact that not all words could explain things. She was better with words than most, seeing as she was an english teacher, but there was no way she could convey to the Doctor that her heart was racing, and that her skin tingled pleasantly from his hands on her, or that she fell more in love with him every time he smiled. She couldn't tell him that seeing him made her stomach fill with butterflies, or that when he held her hand she never wanted him to let go, and she couldn't tell him properly that she wanted to kiss him because now, the words wouldn't come to her.

The Doctor had brought his face closer to hers, and his gaze flicked to her lips before looking into her eyes again. They both wondered if this was a good idea, and what it would mean. They both meant so much to each other, but there didn't seem to be any right way to convey it. Neither of them understood what was between them, so that's why they closed the distance between each other, together.

It felt as if a spark had traveled through her when their lips met, a gentle one. The Doctor's lips were soft, and he moved them against hers tentatively. Her eyes were closed, and she held her breath, trying to savor this moment. This moment that she had been waiting for without even knowing it. There was no proper way to tell him how she felt. Not with words at least, but the way she moved her lips against his felt like it would suffice. This kiss made them understand the unspoken connection between each other.

The Doctor pulled away from her, and she opened her eyes slowly, taking in a breath as she did so. Her lips tingled from having touched his.

To Clara's surprise the Doctor went back to rubbing her ankle, and he pulled away before looking down, a blush coating his cheeks pink. She had expected him to at least say something.

"So, do you think you're ready for this race tomorrow?" he asked after a bit, his voice sounding rough.

At first Clara was hurt that he was acting like they hadn't kissed, but when he looked back up at her, waiting for her to answer, he smiled at her as if they had shared a secret. In a way they had.

She cleared her throat, startled by the glint in his eyes that let her know he had enjoyed the kiss, and then she replied, "Maybe we should practice some more."

"Whatever you say, boss."

They once again ended up in the hallway, his left leg tied to her right one. To her dismay they were actually as bad as when they had first started. Apparently taking a break made them lose all the coordination they'd previously had.

Clara began to fall forward, the Doctor dragging her down the hall.

"Doctor, you're going too fast!"

He stopped and she managed to catch herself by grabbing onto his shoulder.

"You're going too slow," he complained, looking down at her.

"Why are you even trying so hard?" she asked. "You're not the one who's competing."

"I could be," he said slyly with a wink.

Clara slapped his arm playfully, making him wince and try to jump away from her. That made him fall backwards, and he collided with the wall, and she ended up against his chest, hugging him for balance. The Doctor put his hands on her waist, righting himself.

She laughed quietly before saying, "I already told you that you can't do that."

"If we're this bad and we've already practiced a bit, how badly do you think you and your friend Adrian will be?"

Clara swished her hair out of her face before looking up at the Doctor. He was laughing quietly, head tilted upward, and she could feel the rumble in his chest.

"We don't necessarily have to win," she replied carefully, knowing that she and Adrian would most likely be even worse. How did people really figure this out anyway?

"Then why'd you call me over for practice if winning didn't matter?" the Doctor asked evenly, gazing down at her as if he was trying to figure her out.

"Why did you stay if you're not even going to participate?" she retorted.

The Doctor tilted his head closer to hers. "Why did you think I'd help you with something so pointless?"

"Why are you helping me with something so pointless?" Clara asked with a smile, knowing that would mess with him.

He opened and closed his mouth, a frown forming on his face, and drawing his eyebrows downward. However, his cheeks began to turn pink, and he averted her gaze as he inquired, "Why does it matter?"

"Because things always matter to you," she informed him quietly. The conversation had been slowly drawing away from the three-legged race, but now those words had changed the conversation entirely.

His gaze met hers once again, and his blush faded from his cheeks. The Doctor then gave her a teasing smile. "Do they?" he asked quietly.

Clara put a hand to his chest and closed her eyes, focusing on feeling the steady beats of his twin hearts. A peaceful smile lit her face when she felt them, faint against the palm of her hand. She then opened her eyes and told him, "Two hearts. You can't help but care."

"I know," he whispered before bringing his lips to hers once more. It didn't surprise her much. Throughout their little conversation, they had been drawing closer to each other. She hadn't been sure of why until now.

This kiss was not so gentle, but it was just as endearing. Clara could feel the way she made his nerves light up with a simple touch, the way she made his hearts race, the way she made him nervous and excited all at the same time. She could feel that he cared for her in a way that couldn't be said.

It really had been silly to call him over for something such as practice for a three-legged race. As he backed her up and pressed her against the opposite wall, it didn't matter much anymore. Perhaps this was meant to happen, and that's why she had called him. Either way, she was actually glad that their legs were still tied together, that they were still holding each other, and that they were still kissing.


End file.
